


The Twin Suns Set Together

by FesteringSilence, White_Rainbow



Series: Operation: Galactic Gambit [10]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi
Genre: Also yep its called "jizz" music, Anal Sex, Both corrupted by Eustace somehow, Fanart, Fester and I are in this together, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Just...hear me out ok?, M/M, Porn With Plot, Romance, This is all Eustace's fault, look it up on wookiepedia if you dont believe me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-15 22:57:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11241027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FesteringSilence/pseuds/FesteringSilence, https://archiveofourown.org/users/White_Rainbow/pseuds/White_Rainbow
Summary: Chapter Excerpt:“We could be the twin suns of Tattooine,” Jabba had once told Piett. “You and I, feared and loved, desperately needed, the burning beacons of a new age in the Empire and the Underworld. With me at your side, little one, no one would dare blot out your light.”It was true, Piett did feel stronger with Jabba behind him.He had told the hutt this once.And Jabba reminded him that he would only add to the strength that already existed inside the admiral.“You are your own sun, Firmus. Stop eclipsing it with doubt.”Piett was determined to shed his doubt now.





	The Twin Suns Set Together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EustaceS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EustaceS/gifts).



> Eustace pitched a silly idea...but then we started discussing it and slowly, somehow, it began to make sense? Fester and I laughed about it...then again, we talked about it...and suddenly I wrote this and Fester drew this. No regrets.
> 
> Writer: [White Rainbow](http://white-rainbowff.tumblr.com/)  
> Artist: [FesteringSilence](http://festeringsilence.tumblr.com/)  
> 

****“He is waiting,” Bib Fortuna said, his red eyes gliding over Piett’s unusual garb.

Piett usually came to the palace donning his Imperial uniform, but today he wore a long, black robe, sleeves sliding over his skinny hands despite his attempts to pull them up.

Piett was nervous.

Jabba had kept his courting of the Admiral at a respectful pace, never going beyond what Piett felt comfortable. This would be the first time Piett would make the first move.

Piett was not accustomed to making the first move.

Even in the beginning Jabba reached out to him, inquiring that he was welcome to practice Huttese with the hutt at any time he wished.

Piett took advantage of this, stealing away time to talk of their eclectic tastes Jabba’s affinity for archaeological artifacts, and Piett’s guilty pleasure of jizz music. And sometimes, they would just talk about...themselves. Their day-to-day struggles, their worries about the future, their frustrations dealing with the past.

They would talk for hours and Piett found he could tell Jabba anything, as long as it was in Huttese.

Jabba occasionally made the effort to speak Basic, but at the first slip up he would immediately revert to Huttese to save his ego.

Piett always pretended not to notice.

Jabba eventually began to extend subtle offers of affection once Piett began to visit the palace more regularly: a place to stay, to stand closer to him, to perhaps sit at his side and watch dancers perform for them.

Piett always found an excuse to leave.

Jabba was not just a hutt, he was _the Hutt_ , a notorious gangster, someone feared and respected in areas that _should_ fear the Empire.

Piett should have cut off their communication. He should have kept it professional and remind himself that he was an Imperial Admiral and the hutt was a crime lord.

...but then...he thought of Jabba…

Jabba, who was there for him when Ozzel was killed and he found way over his head being the admiral’s replacement. Jabba, who talked Piett through what it meant to be in a position of power. Jabba, who was always ready with stories of adventures when he was a younger hutt, adored to hear tales from the Empire’s domination of the galaxy.

Piett and Jabba shared things they did not want to reveal outside his chambers.

And yet when Jabba asked for more, Piett kept himself at a distance.

A week ago Jabba had sent a final gift to Piett.

A gift with a letter written in Huttese:

 

_You know me to be bold in my desires, but do not take this gift as a demand._

_I only wish you to one day be as comfortable with me as I feel with you._

_Firmus, this is my final gift of courtship. My friendship with you I hope will last a lifetime._

_Yours Always,_

_J._

 

Heart pounding in his chest, Piett followed Bib Fortuna into Jabba’s main chambers, which was empty of the usual staff, guards and even Salacious Crumb was nowhere to be found.

He broke into a wide smile when he saw Jabba.

The chamber had been freshly scrubbed, cleaner than Piett had ever seen.

There were vases on every table, shelf and crevice in the room, all overstuffed with honeysuckles, Piett’s favorite. The admiral drew in a deep breath and found that the thick sweetness of the flowers successfully masked the lingering dank odor that permeated throughout the rest of the palace.

Jabba had cleaned himself up as well.

Gone was the normal residue of salivation that collected around the hutt’s wide lips, and a small red handkerchief was folded next to him on a side table...just in case.

The unsavory bowl of live amphibians which Jabba kept near him as a convenient snack was replaced with a colorful pile of delightfully smelling fruits.

Even his long, fleshy form had a certain shine to it.

Jabba’s round, amber eyes widened when he saw Piett.

“You came,” he said in a low rumble of Basic.

“I did,” Piett said in Huttese, seeing the ease in the Hutt’s form at the return to Huttese. “This is beautiful, Jabba.”

Jabba grinned slightly and in Huttese said, “This? I had no idea you were stopping in. This is how my palace always looks these days.”

Piett and Jabba both laughed at this, though Piett’s giggles were drowned out by the booming _ho, ho_ of the hutt’s guffaws.

“Jabba,” Piett started, licking his dry lips. “I want...I had been thinking…”

He faltered to find the right words.

The slug tilted his enormous head, his oaken eyes softening.

“You do not have to say anything, little one,” Jabba said. “I only offer what I can offer and I expect nothing in return, except your occasional company should you wish.”

Piett stepped forward, the gold of his slippers glimmering briefly in the soft light before hiding beneath the robe once again. “I...would like it to be more than just occasional.”

Jabba said nothing, as if not daring to hope…

As Piett approached, he could smell the sweet-scented fruits permeating off the hutt. Gone was the stench of boiled amphibians and rotten “delicacies” his people indulged too greatly upon.

Jabba was making an effort.

He was trying to be something Piett was already starting to see on his own.

Still, the hutt’s intentions only made Piett’s shy smile broaden.

_Jabba...who would have thought…_

Piett hoped the hutt would not laugh.

Slowly Piett undid the fastener of his robe and the heavy material fell away effortlessly, pooling around his feet.

“F-Firmus,” Jabba rumbled gently.

Piett gave the hutt a tender smile and took his time.

His fingers ran along the golden collar around his neck. Its chain tinkled musically as it swayed behind him, the sheer weight of it against Piett’s neck sending pleasurable shivers down his spine.

He explored his own bare chest, caressing the fine, pale hair over his narrow pectorals before his fingers found his nipples.

With his index and thumb he gave the darkened nubs a slight pinch.

He gasped, biting his lip as he tweaked and tugged at them, heat pooling in his belly with every turn.

The hutt reacted with a quiet shiver, pursing his lips tightly as if afraid to make any noise and ruin the moment for Piett.

The Admiral hoped to ease the hutt’s fears of such things tonight.

Piett’s caramel orbs watched those large amber eyes hold Piett’s gaze for a long moment before allowing himself to roam the rest of Piett’s body.

Piett’s fingers continued downward, shifting his attention to his flattened stomach next. The shallow abs reflexively tensed as his fingers tickled the tender area beneath his navel just above his loincloth.

With a steady breath he turned his attention to Jabba’s gift, the loincloth itself.

The loincloth was held up by a golden segmented belt that hung loosely on Piett’s slender hips. Over the buckle connecting the golden plates was a carving of the twin suns of Tatooine.

That image was part of the reason why Piett was here today.

“We could be the twin suns of Tatooine,” Jabba had once told Piett. “You and I, feared and loved, desperately needed, the burning beacons of a new age in the Empire and the Underworld. With me at your side, little one, no one would dare blot out your light.”

It was true, Piett did feel stronger with Jabba behind him. He had told the hutt this once.

And Jabba reminded him that he would only add to the strength that had already existed inside the admiral.

“You are your own sun, Firmus. Stop eclipsing it with doubt.”

Piett was determined to shed his doubt now.

Piett let out a soft sigh as his hands ghosted over the silky cloth that covered his member. The moment his fingers touched his growing hardness, Jabba’s tail swished eagerly on the platform.

Piett hoped for a word or two of encouragement or praise.

Yet, Jabba said nothing.

Ignoring the rising doubt in his mind, Piett wrapped his hand around his hardness, and gave it a slow tug, the satin material caressing him as he let out a soft moan.

And still Jabba was silent.

Only the gentle _swish, swish_ of his tail grew a bit more urgent.

“Shall I dance for you?” Piett asked, the heat rising to his cheeks, hoping to get some encouragement that way.

Jabba licked at his lips, reaching for the handkerchief to wipe the saliva away. “Firmus, do as you wish. You are in control this night,” Jabba said, his words coming out like the soft crunch of gravel along a rocky beach.

Piett drew in a deep breath.

 _Do not let your doubt blot out the sun, Firmus,_ he reminded himself.

Piett swayed to music that did not exist save for within himself.

It was a slow tempo, hips swaying back and forth, a palm frond to fan his master’s desires.

With each seductive sway, the short satin cloth brushed mercilessly against his member, and he found himself thrusting his hips forward in vain to satisfy his growing urges.

Piett closed his eyes and raised his arms in the air as if surrendering to the pleasure seeping into his loins. His hips began to snap to and fro, the cloth now practically clinging to his dewy tip as he danced.

“J...Jabba,” he breathed, his eyes opening and finding that rich, almond gaze within a face softer than he had ever seen on the hutt. “May I approach?”

“Firmus…” Jabba sighed, holding out a hand; a hand Firmus had only seen grab and demand and shake with tyrannical fervor. Yet now it was a hand that extended with a slight, nervous tremor.

Piett approached and slid his hand onto the hutt’s soft, fleshy palm that reminded him of loose silk; it moved and shifted as Piett squeezed it tenderly. And the hutt squeezed back.

“Tell me, what shall I do?” Piett asked.

Surely the hutt knew how to derive pleasure from the humanoids he once kept. Humanoids, Piett noted, that he had not seen in the palace for some time now. Had he finally released his slaves?

Jabba shook his head. “I make no demands. Do as you will.”

Piett bit his lip, guiding Jabba’s hand over the smooth, pale skin of his hip. Jabba’s body quivered as those fingers caressed Piett’s tender flesh. Those large eyes practically devoured every inch of Piett in one gulp.

A movement caught Piett’s tired eyes, something that stirred near Jabba’s tail, but when he looked there was nothing there. Ignoring his curiosity for the moment Piett turned his attention to Jabba’s face.

The deep lines and folds that etched Jabba’s skin reminded Piett of Tatooine itself. It was a landscape of deep crevices, a surprising amount of life, and most of all it was a cunning and treacherous world where few survived save only the cleverest.

And Jabba was one of the most clever entities Piett had ever known.

He glided his fingers along the cleft of Jabba’s chin, feeling smooth plains and rough edges and all the while keeping a mindfulness on the movement near Jabba’s tail.

“Jabba,” he whispered again, in a soft, light tone and again a hardness pushed against Jabba’s body just above his thick tail.

“Jabba, if I go to far…” Piett said, pulling away, running a hand over Jabba’s glistening skin. “...let me know, alright?”  
“I highly doubt that would be an issue,” Jabba choked, as Piett knelt beside the hutt’s tail.

“Even still…” Piett smiled, and kept that smile as he pressed his hands around the area that pulsated with pleasure within Jabba. A deep moan erupted from the hutt as Piett kneaded mercilessly at his flesh like a hungry feline.

In all his time with Jabba he had never so much as touched the hutt. Yet now,, feeling the silky, plush flesh beneath him rise and fall at his will it was almost...addicting.

He had an urge to lay on the hutt, to bury his face in him, wrap his arms around him, to let Jabba’s flesh surround him and make him feel safe.

Jabba truly did make him feel safe…

He looked up and saw the hutt had closed his eyes, his wide mouth hanging open and the smallest trace of that wormy tongue peeking between his lips. The hutt quickly took his handkerchief again and dabbed it almost daintily.

Piett smiled at being honored to see this side of the ruthless gangster. The side that was so passionate, even romantic, and yet for all the power he possessed, a veil of self-consciousness still existed.

Suddenly, Piett spied the movement again, hardening, taking shape. A small slit appeared in the hutt’s skin.

Tentatively, Piett touched the slit, dragging a finger along its length slowly until a long, slick phallus slithered into view.

It was long and rounded, thicker than any human organ, but surprisingly not overwhelming despite the hutt’s bulk.

Small harmless spines of soft tissue adorned the sides of the shaft. It glistened beautifully in the half-light.

Jabba’s eyes snapped open and he looked down, almost fearfully at Piett. “I…”

“Hush,” Piett soothed, rubbing around the moistened phallus. “Lie on your back?”

An internal struggle seemed to exist within the hutt, as if not expecting just how much Piett wanted this.

Perhaps, he was just expecting a dance, a playful flirt, but nothing of more...substance.

But Piett was not one to beat around the bush.

His feelings for Jabba had already been developing despite his resistance and constant reminders that this, politically-speaking, was not ideal.

To hell with politics.

Jabba and he were twin suns.

And they were going to set together tonight.

“As you wish,” Jabba said, rolling over and lying on his back. His flesh shifted with him, widening and nearly covering all of the platform.

Piett moved with the hutt, climbing atop of him, feeling the flesh mold to him as his thighs straddled the squirming tail.

He brushed his loincloth to the side and gently eased his weight onto the hutt. He laid his full, hardened length onto Jabba’s soft underbelly. It felt like folds of wrinkled satin that smoothed as he glided his length inched slowly towards the hutt’s shaft.

Time slowed down.

The room fell quiet.

Jabba’s eyes looked upon Piett, a slight smile appearing on those wide, thin lips.

“Is this what you want?” the hutt asked, this time in Basic. “Am I…?”

Piett answered him with a slight thrust of his hips.

Jabba almost curled in on himself, his tail rising upwards, pressing against Piett’s back as he glided his cock against the hutt’s.

The soft spine tickled and teased Piett in all the right ways. The harder he pressed, the more the spines seemed to shift and mold around his shaft, holding and stroking him.

Piett slid a hand beneath Jabba’s organ, his palm growing slick as he massaged him, drawing out increasingly unhinged sounds from the hutt.

“Firmus…” Jabba croaked, and it looked like he was going to say more, but only swallowed the words back.

_He is still holding back._

Piett withdrew his hand, now coated with Jabba’s arousal and reached behind him. With a shiver he circled and teased at his entrance, the liquid tingling his sensitive nerves. His eyes never left the hutt’s, whose brow creased ever so slightly, new folds appearing and angling in distress.

“Tell me,” Piett urged. “Tell me you want this too.”

“Please…” Jabba pleaded. His hands trembled. Unable to grip anything but his own flesh, the hutt pulled at the soft, loose skin, massaging at it as Piett continued to rock forward, sliding his cock along his thick length.

Like a prowling nexu, long limbs stretching out and forward, Piett slowly crawled higher on Jabba’s body.

In one sweeping movement he brushed aside the loincloth behind him, feeling the coolness of the room kiss his bare form as he positioned himself over Jabba’s organ which practically radiated with need.

“Tell me…” Piett lowered himself centimeter by centimeter, his entrance touching the rounded tip of Jabba’s cock, sending another shy chorus of moans bubbling out of the hutt.

“Firmus,” Jabba gasped.

Piett pressed down a little harder.

“Yes,” he gasped finally. “please…I need you, Firmus.”

With a soft smile on those narrow wet lips, Piett shifted his weight and eased himself onto Jabba’s length.

It filled him in a way he had never known before. It consumed his senses. It took his breath away and yet gave him life.

Piett clung to the hutt’s flesh, his control unraveling as he began to bounce up and down on the hutt’s cock, moaning his new lover’s name. “Jabba...my heart…my heart...”

Jabba’s tail lashed behind the admiral as Piett increased his movements, only adding to the wild rhythm that consumed Piett.

“Jabba...oh kriff…” He opened his eyes looking towards his lover and frowned a moment. Jabba had his large head turned away, his small hand uselessly attempting to cover his wide face. His tongue lolled out, his eyes squeezed shut. The harder Piett rode him, the more desperate it seemed he would not express his pleasure.

 _Do not hide,_ Piett pleaded softly, his own moans coming out in short, needy bursts. _Please, show me how you come undone._

Piett grabbed his own length and cried out as he mercilessly stroked himself, keeping in time with the hutt as his tail began to thrash up and down, sending himself deeper into the admiral.

Low, gasping whimpers came from the hutt.

He was getting close.

Piett could tell. The hutt’s shaft began to pulsate and harden within the admiral, pulling louder moans from him…

...Moans he wished to share with the Hutt, who still remained silent save for heavy quiet utterances.

“Jabba, look at me,” Piett moaned. “Please…”

Jabba’s large eyes opened slowly, his gaze unfocused and drunk with pleasure. “Firmus…” He panted.

“There you are,” Piett sighed, a pleasant heat washing over him as he felt himself rise to his peak.

Jabba’s tail curled up once again, wrapping around Piett’s waist and squeezing it gently.

“My sun…” Jabba rumbled softly, guiding the admiral’s movements now. “My golden sun… my little one…will you come for me?”

Piett arched his back, feeling Jabba’s member throb inside him, the small spines beginning to vibrate unexpectedly.

He managed a small nod as he let Jabba guide his movements, his cries growing louder as the vibrations only increased.

“I…” Jabba gurgled. “I have...arrived…”

Jabba laid his head back and his whole body quivered in orgasm, pleasure billowing through his soft body like silk on a windy spring day..

Piett let out a series of loud, gutteral moans that echoed throughout the chamber.

“I...kriff...Jabba, I’m coming…I’m...”

Piett grabbed the chain around his collar and pulled hard, forcing his back to arch. The gold dug deep into his neck, shortening his breath, heightening his arousal.

As he came, Piett imagined himself pushing away the eclipse and letting his own personal sun sear the very world that had tried to oppress him all his life.

And now he could see that Jabba shone just as brightly as he did.

“So beautiful,” Jabba panted, his own orgasm finally subsiding and he melted on his platform. “So perfect. My golden sun...”

When he was drained of everything he had, Piett released the chain and collapsed hard on Jabba’s belly, trusting the fleshy body to catch him completely.

And it did...letting him sink into the hutt, nestled in a safe nest of warmth.

A soft _ho, ho, ho, ho_ rolled through Jabba. “Careful not to get lost, little one.”

“I would be happily lost, my heart.”

Jabba hummed contently, shifting slightly to make himself more comfortable. He unfurled his tail around Piett’s waist and began to stroke his back gently.

“Thank you for this,” Jabba murmured. “I know I am not...ideal...for anyone of your species or many others. But you gave me a chance...it is more than a gangster like me deserves.”

Firmus stretched out and caught the tip of Jabba’s tail, giving it a gentle kiss. A noise akin to a wet purr came from the hutt before his appendage retreated again, curling up contentedly.

Piett sighed happily, nuzzling deeper against Jabba’s body.

“You deserve a lot more than you give yourself credit,” Piett said, his eyes growing heavy. “As do I, I suppose. Can we set aside gratitude and just know that we are a pair of suns that have found each other at last?”

At his words, Jabba’s body seemed to relax entirely. In a soft, lazy slur, Jabba said. “The galaxy is not ready for a pair like us, Firmus.”

Piett sighed, kissing the soft green flesh of his partner. “Good…They do not deserve much of a warning.”


End file.
